Let It Go
by Scarlet Cloud
Summary: "You sent your own boyfriend to the spam box? Ouch." But all was well again. They could, once again, undress each other with their eyes instead of writing reports. It would be fun. M/M


**A/N: Well, after being gone for forever, I have returned with a one-shot of the cutest boys I know.**

* * *

"Close your eyes," Deeks hummed.

The blonde laughed and shook her head, almost insinuating that he was an idiot for even asking. But he gave her puppy dog eyes that made her rethink it. He was good at that. So she sighed, gave in, and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Marty, I swear if you-"

She was cut off by Deeks clipping a necklace around her neck. It was silver, had a small butterfly attached. It was simple, though slightly on the expensive side. That may have been hidden by it not being terribly extravagant. _She _knew jewelry, though, and opened her eyes with a smile.

"It's _gorgeous_!" she exclaimed. "Expensive, though. You shouldn't have."

The two flirted a bit, banter flew relentlessly. The man outside frowned, peeled his eyes off the couple at dinner, and shoved his hands in his pockets as he left for home.

* * *

Deeks had long since dropped his weapon. Kensi and Sam had theirs hesitantly lowered, though both were ready to aim and shoot as soon as necessary. Callen, however, kept his gun trained on the suspect, fingers curled tight around the handle

"I'm asking you to trust me, Cal," Deeks called, hands raised in a position of surrender as he stood between the team and the perp.

"Trust _you_?" Callen asked with an indignant grunt.

The agent licked his lips and shrugged off the looks he was getting, but after getting elbowed by Sam, he lowered his weapon. Deeks took a few more steps towards the killer, talked him down, and got him in handcuffs. It was a win.

Only, it didn't feel that way for Callen.

* * *

They sat in silence and wrote their reports. Noses stuck in files as if there was nothing better to do. No one commented on the tension between Deeks and Callen in the field, or how out of nowhere Callen seemed not to trust his own boyfriend.

And, no matter what they said, everyone knew they were together. It was obvious by the little things. They got to work at the same time, left in the same direction. They both smelt like Deeks' shampoo half the time. Obviously, they were living together.

Kensi stood, motioned for Sam to follow her. They left, just like that, and almost immediately the remaining boys' eyes met. Deeks looked sad, hurt. Callen looked unbreakable, unrepentant.

"Did I do something wrong, G?"

"I dunno, Marty. You tell _me_."

Deeks rolled his eyes. Clearly, he wasn't the only child present. And, clearly, if he knew what he'd done, he wouldn't be asking. Callen was being a bit unreasonable. But Deeks put his file down on his desk anyway, and looked at his boyfriend with as much patience as he could muster.

"Your birthday isn't for another three months, and we just started dating a month ago, so an anniversary's out of the picture. Did we have a date I forgot about? Because, you could have called and told me how much of an idiot I am."

It was almost rambly, normal Deeks and it _almost_ made Callen crack a smile. But he didn't.

"_You_ had a date. With the, uh, annoying blonde chick?"

The statement seemed angrier than Callen would usually let leak through in a situation like this. Almost as if inspired by jealousy, peaked by betrayal. There was silence, for just a moment, and Deeks laughed.

"Cal, honey, that wasn't a _date_. She was my best friend, from law school. I told you I was taking her to dinner to celebrate her getting engaged."

Callen shook his head and scoffed, "You never told me that."

The shorter man sighed, got up, and walked over to Callen's desk, noticeably putting the other on edge. He opened Callen's email, and pulled up an unread one from himself that explained the situation. Callen went red.

"You sent your own boyfriend to the spam box? Ouch," Deeks joked.

"Sorry, Marty."

They kissed. Quickly, gently, just a peck. All was well again. They could, once again, undress each other with their eyes instead of writing reports. It would be fun.

"You can make it up to me tonight. Dinner, maybe a movie or two..."


End file.
